


Every Boob Is Special

by ialpiriel



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/F, Misuse of Military Technology, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6814648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ialpiriel/pseuds/ialpiriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stakeout gets long, Niner gets bored, and Carolina gets flustered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Boob Is Special

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted to the [rvb kink meme](http://shotguns-lap.dreamwidth.org/1588.html?thread=142388#cmt142388)

“This is 479er, paging Carolina, this is a private line, Carolina do you copy?”

“479er, this is Carolina, I copy. What’s the update?”

There’s a thunk of boots, the creak of vinyl, Niner grunts.

“How’s the stakeout?” It’s not an official inquiry, her tone is too conversational, and with no protocol wrapped around the words.

“Long,” Carolina replies, resettles on her haunches. Stares ahead, keeps her listening line open on North and South and York. They’re all silent, waiting in their own stakeout positions.

“How long, d’you think?” Niner asks, and there’s the sound of shifting armor, squeak of boots across a console, shuffle of gauntlets being removed.

“A while.” Carolina replies. 

“You're not very good conversation”, Niner snortS. “And here I was with _plans_.”

It's Carolina's turn to snort.

“I'm not sure you need me involved in any of your _plans_ ,” she replies. She scans the field in front of her. Still no movement, or conspicuous lack of movement, for that matter. Lucky it's a field of grass, not a cornfield. 

“Mmm, sure I do,” Niner disagrees. There's the soft sound of plastic armor slipping across the vinyl seat. “How quickly can you switch channels, again?”

So, _plans_.

“Fast enough,” Carolina replies. Hopefully the Innies won't show for another half hour. 

Niner laughs, and there’s the sound of more shifting plastic on vinyl, quiet noise of the undersuit pulling across skin, thunk of one boot on the floor, then the thunk of two boots on a console.

“What'll you do when you get back?” 

“Take a shower,” Carolina replies. Doesn't close her eyes, but shifts her thoughts, lets her eyes and thoughts go on autopilot as she thinks about her hypothetical shower.

“Mmm, Carolina, naked and wet, a good mental image.” There's a creak of vinyl and plastic. “What do you wash first?”

“Hair,” she replies, lets her brain snap back to reality long enough to identify movement out in the field--wild animal, antelope-ish, nothing important. Let's herself sink back into shower-thoughts. “Then I work my way down.”

Niner grunts, and it turns into a sigh. 

“Tell me about it.”

“Chest first.” Shifts her weight so it puts pressure differently, redistribute weight. “Chest, then armpits.”

“Armpits aren’t sexy. Skip them.”

“Hygiene is important. Fine. Breasts next.” She pauses, scans the horizon.

“Tell me about ‘em. Never seen ‘em.”

“You should take me on a real date,” Carolina replies.

“Only if you’re buying drinks,” Niner replies without missing a beat.

“You’re the one who started this,” Carolina says. “But fine. They’re nothing special.”

“Every boob is special,” Niner replies. “Make ‘em special in the telling.”

“Why don’t I just show you later?” 

“That would require off-hours fraternization, and you’re a stick in the mud when there are rules involved.” There’s the sound of vinyl and plastic. “I still can't believe I've never seen your tits. ‘Off-hours fraternization.’ You know what I’m gonna do next time we both have a day off?”

Carolina stops breathing, lets everything else grind down into silence as the blood pounds through her ears, thinks about the times they’ve fucked in the front seat of the Pelican as they autopilot out past moons or through empty space, bare hands, bare asses, armor on, helmets on, boots on, thinks about the one time Niner took her helmet off, knelt between Carolina’s thighs and told her to mute her radio on all channels. Thinks about the times she ended up in Niner’s lap, or Niner in hers, grinding against thighs until they came.

“I’m gonna get you in bed,” Niner says, and Carolina almost laughs, bites her lip. “Lock your door, keep you in your helmet, mute it so no one else can hear you.” Niner is smiling, probably that big toothy grin, the one that squinches her eyes near-shut. “Gonna lick your clit ‘til you scream.” She laughs, and Carolina tries to tell if she made a noise or if Niner is just like that. “How long could I keep you there? You think you could relax for an hour?” There's a wet sound, like she’s licking her lips, and Carolina tries to take a deep breath in through her nose, as quietly as she can. “You think I could get you to relax for two hours? Shit what if I--” Niner pauses.

Carolina swallows, bites the side of her tongue.

“What if you what?” she asks.

“What if I tied you up?” Niner says. “Handcuffed you to the bed, didn’t let you go until I’d kept you there for a few hours.” She's quiet for a moment, they're both quiet. Niner is breathing hard enough Carolina can hear it through the comms.

“Yeah,” Carolina says. She’s not sure what she’s agreeing to. “Yeah,” She repeats, takes a deep breath.

“Shit, seriously?” Niner asks, genuine surprise in her voice. “You want me to--” She catches herself, shifts her tone down, paces herself. “You want me to tie you to the bed, fuck you with my tongue until your legs stop working?”

“I’m not sure I would say no,” Carolina agrees, scans the horizon again. There’s still nothing.

“Aw, c’mon, that’s still not a yes,” Niner pouts. “Am I not sexy enough for you?”

Carolina grunts.

“Aw, c’mon babe, don’t be like that.” Niner laughs. “If you keep acting like that I won’t break out the toys, and you’ll just have to make do with my fingers. You’d really be missing out, too, your loss, because I bought this _great_ new vibe last time I actually had shore leave.”

Carolina shifts her weight again, sets one knee on the ground, leans her elbow on the other. Stretches out the muscles of her back, feels the pull across her shoulders and down into her triceps as she presses her palms into the dirt.

“You did, huh?” she asks. Still nothing, out in the field.

“Yeah, little, but powerful. Actually.” There's a plastic noise as Niner scoots across the seat, thunk of boots on the floor, a airy noise as helmet locks are disengaged. The low rumble of ship engines in the background, and then a louder, closer, higher-pitched buzz, slow, first, then faster. Niner says nothing for a long five seconds--Carlina counts, closes her eyes, feels the thrill run up behind her breastbone so she breathes deeply, curl her fingers under, then stretches them back out flat in the dirt. She feels a muscle in her jaw twitch. The buzz stops, and there's the shuffle of a helmet being replaced, the click of seals and then absence of the engine noises. “If you’re interested.”

“You brought it _with you?_ ” Carolina asks.

“Sure, have you ever been on these stakeouts? What do you think bus drivers do while they’re waiting?”

“They sit in the nearest Starbucks and try not to regret their life choices.”

“Now you're just ruining the mood,” Niner grumbles. There’s the sound of shuffling through pockets, then the thunk of boots on the console, again. “Really though, I'm imagining you up on your chair here. We’ve got ten minutes to docking procedure initialization, I use this baby on you until you’re screaming.”

“I look forward to it,” Carolina agrees, and something out in the field catches her eye. There’s movement--not antelope-ish, this time, human-ish. She toggles to the public line. “We have contact. Prepare for information retrieval.”

Acknowledgements echo back immediately, and she flips to Niner’s line.

“Let’s continue this later.”

“It’s a date,” Niner agrees, and there’s the sound of plastic, vinyl, a zipper. “I’ll have you to myself all day.” She laughs. “479er out, copy.”

The line goes silent, and Carolina is on her feet a moment later, skidding down the hill on aching legs, out into the grass to intercept her target.


End file.
